A small ship cruised through the infinite blackness of space.
A bright flash surrounded it, and soon it was nestled very comfortably
in the top floor of Central City's City Hall. The hatch opened,
and the pilot of the ship walked out: a blonde-haired young
man, in his early-to-mid twenties.

"What the hell?" Claude said loudly. "What's
this?" Soon after him came Rena, who was wondering many
of the same things as Claude. In her arms were their twin boys,
sleeping happily.

"Please stay on the other side of the desk," Narl's
secretary called out. Claude looked at where he and Rena were
standing, and found that they were, indeed, in the part of the
office that would be behind her desk, if it weren't completely
demolished.

"But our ship just crashed into your office building,
and this is just how we happened to come out..." Claude
tried to explain.

"Please stay on the other side of the desk," the
secretary said again.

"What desk? It's in tiny pieces all over the office!"
Rena shouted.

"Please stay on the other side of the desk."

"But listen," Claude said.

"Please stay on the other side of the desk."

"Will you just..."

"Please stay on the other side of the desk."

"All right," Claude said, feeling defeated. "We're
going..."

"Thank you," the secretary said. She then resumed
the work she was engaged in until disturbed by Claude and Rena.

"Maybe we should see if Narl is in," Rena said.

"Good idea," Claude said, as they walked into Narl's
inner office. When they got there, however, the office was empty.

"Mayor Narl?" Rena said. "Are you here?"
No answer came.

"Maybe he's out for lunch or something," Claude said.
Suddenly, a loud flushing sound came from the back. A small
door materialized, which Narl walked through. The door disappeared
mere seconds after Narl closed it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in," Narl said,
sitting down at his desk. "Wait a minute," he said,
studying the two. "Who are you?"

The two walked out of the building and immersed themselves
in the splendor of Central City. "Do you think he was lying
to us?" Rena said.

"No, he seemed genuinely ignorant," said Claude.
"Something has to be up..."

Just then, a passing stranger bumped into Claude. He was a
man in about his thirties, with a very stern expression on his
face. A very distinct scar went down the length of his right
cheek. He was dressed in a long, black trench coat. When he
collided with Claude, he dropped a small stack of papers he
was holding.

"Excuse me," he said, in a very gruff voice. "Sorry
about that."

"No problem," Claude said, bending down to help the
man pick up the papers. As he grabbed one, he saw the title
'Crest of...' The rest was smeared and illegible, as it had
fallen into a small mud puddle.

"Thanks a lot," the man said, taking the paper from
Claude's hand.

"You're welcome," Claude said, with a tone of quiet
contemplation. He stood there, staring into space as the man
ducked into a nearby alley.